


Icarus’ Choice

by LadyJanus



Series: Aftermath [2]
Category: Battlestar Galactica (2003)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-28
Updated: 2017-09-28
Packaged: 2019-01-06 10:14:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,182
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12209175
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyJanus/pseuds/LadyJanus
Summary: In life, there are always choices; Lee must own his.Spoilers: To "Crossroads Part 2" ... everything from there is definitely my imagination.The second story in my "Aftermath" series; it is a follow-up to "Goodbye, Captain Apollo".





	Icarus’ Choice

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: All belongs to the Lords of Kobol ... the only thing that's mine is my craziness.

Icarus’ Choice

“Did you write this?” Lee demanded as he came through the hatch without knocking.

William Adama looked up from the conversation he’d been having over dinner with his best friend and executive officer, Saul Tigh. His son was clearly agitated about something, but that was no reason for him to just barge in.

“Excuse me?” he rumbled, attempting to keep his anger in check.

“This opinion,” Lee said holding up a plain grey folder. “Did you write it?”

Saul rose, drained the last of his ambrosia and dusted an imaginary crumb from the front of his uniform. 

“I think this is where I head out, Bill,” he said setting down the glass, and without waiting for acknowledgement marched out the hatch and shut it behind him.

Bill regarded Lee levelly; he knew that a certain amount of annoyance showed on his face, but he couldn’t help it. It also didn’t help that Lee was wearing his uniform without the flight insignia he’d all but thrown in Bill’s face only a few days ago--thrown away in a fit of anger so that he could defend that _frak-weasel_ , Gaius Baltar, betraying Laura to Baltar’s attorney, Romo Lamkin, in the process.

Of course, it was only after their confrontation over Bill’s mistaken belief that Lee had somehow learned the details of Ellen Tigh’s death and passed them to the attorney for Saul’s cross-examination that Bill realised what a skilful manipulator Lamkin was. 

Watching Baltar’s defender work the courtroom, the witnesses and the spectators, Bill realised that Lamkin couldn’t help but see the problems between him and Lee--problems that most fathers and sons had. It had no doubt been easy for the canny attorney to arm Lee like a guided missile and set him off straight towards Bill, who had more than done his part in bringing about the resultant explosion by questioning Lee’s integrity.

And as a direct result, Lee had put aside his integrity and ripped into Laura Roslin on the witness stand, exposing her Chamalla use--spinning it in the worst light possible.

_ “You’ll never understand what we went through on that planet!” _ she’d snarled before leaving him and storming back to the guest quarters after the Jump away from the Cylons to the relative safety of a large radiation storm deeper within the Ionian Nebula. _“And your son obviously thinks so little of me that his first thought was that I’m nothing but a filthy drug-addict bent on revenge!”_

He’d seen the pain in her eyes and was helpless to assuage it even for a little while--all of which made him angrier with Lee.

“Yes--now what is this about?” he snapped.

Lee stared as if seeing him for the first time. “Why?” he croaked.

Admiral William Adama studied his son in silence for a long moment, until Lee faltered under his gaze and looked away. “If you don’t know the answer to that question by now, then I doubt there’s anything I can do to explain it to you,” he replied finally.

Lee’s face was red as he turned to face Bill. “Damn it Dad!” he exploded. “Why can’t you just talk to me?”

“What do you expect me to say, Lee?” Bill replied, not even attempting to mask the fatigue and exasperation in his voice.

“Why did you vote for Baltar’s acquittal when you obviously thought he was guilty?” Lee demanded.

Bill folded his arms across his chest. “I believe it’s written in plain enough language in the majority opinion,” he replied. “The prosecution failed to prove its case for guilt beyond a shadow of a doubt. Is that not the Colonial Judiciary’s legal threshold for acquittal?” 

Lee was silent and that silence irritated Bill even more. 

_ “Is it not?” _ he shouted now and his son flinched.

“Yes,” Lee replied hoarsely.

“Then you know my reason.”

Again Lee was silent for a few minutes, and then he asked, “What about Laura?”

Bill’s eyes narrowed as he regarded his son. “What about her?” he managed to get out around clenched teeth.

“We both know that this is hardly the outcome she wanted when she set this up,” he said.

_ “And your son obviously thinks so little of me that his first thought was that I’m nothing but a filthy drug-addict bent on revenge!” _

Laura’s pain-filled voice echoed in Bill’s mind. “And what do you think she wanted?” he asked.

“The same thing I thought you did,” Lee said bitterly, “Baltar in front of a firing squad paying for all the fleet’s sins.”

Bill barked a harsh grating laugh that had nothing to do with humour. “You’re half right,” he said. “That _was_ my position, and Zarek’s--and the bloody Quorum’s position!” Lee gasped as he threw the admission in his face without apology. “When Baltar was first recaptured, we all advised the President to put him out the _frakking_ airlock because we were afraid of exactly this ... because we all knew that he would use a trial to spread his venom and sow dissention among the people. People with short memories who conveniently forgot what it was like on New Caprica under his watch ... and people who stayed with the ships and never had to live there ...”

Lee had the good grace to grimace as a guilty flush crept up his neck and over his cheekbones.

“We knew that anyone who just wanted to hear pap that fit with their own _frakking_ prejudices would listen to his crap,” he said in disgust. “Only one voice insisted that he have a trial, and that was the president’s voice,” he continued as Lee gaped in surprise. “For the same reason she refused to allow the commander of the _Astral Queen_ to dump his prisoners at the beginning of the exodus from the Twelve Colonies--because they were human beings, not animals ... because summary executions are reserved only for Cylons ... because Cylons are the enemy and because with the exception of Sharon, they’ve proven time and again to be dangerous creatures. 

“No, in the president’s eyes, Baltar was a human being; for better or worse, he was one of ours, and he would be treated like a human being,” Bill husked. "And that meant that we had to give him his _frakking_ trial."

Bill studied his son's shocked face impassively and mourned that Lee had so little faith in him, and especially in Laura, to do the right thing. He remembered her face during the trial--her heartbreak at the painful realisation that her former champion, her noble "Captain Apollo", no longer held his president in any esteem.

“I thought ...” Lee’s voice broke as cold realisation washed over him.

“You thought what?” Bill spat bitterly; anger coursed through him like burning venom though his bloodstream. “You thought that I had no honour--that _Laura_ had no honour. You thought that she would set up a travesty of a hanging court for the express purpose of finding Baltar guilty and that she set me up to be executioner regardless of what the evidence showed.” 

The colour drained from Lee’s face, but Bill wasn’t done yet--not by a long shot. 

“And you thought that as the only one with integrity, it was incumbent on you to get on your _frakking_ Moral High Horse and throw away that very integrity to defend Baltar!”

“I didn’t tell Lamkin about Ellen Tigh!” Lee shouted now. “I didn’t even know!”

“I realise that now,” Bill said quietly. “But how did you expect it to look to me, to Saul--to everyone, when right before Lamkin tore into Saul, you lean over to whisper sweet nothings in his ear.” Lee said nothing; his eyes were wide with sorrow. “How do you think Lamkin meant it to look, Lee? Do you really think that he _needed_ your legal acumen? No, he needed you to do _exactly_ what you did!  
  


“And it was partly my fault,” he continued, sitting heavily behind his desk as Lee looked at him in confusion. “I was angry and frustrated when I questioned your integrity, and once again I spoke in anger before I thought. For that I am more sorry than you will ever know. But that was between you and me, and it’s _no_ excuse for what you did to Laura because you were angry with me.”

Lee hung his head, gazing at the floor.

“I may understand why you did it--I'd already accused you of what I thought you’d done to Saul, so you figured you might as well do what I’d accused you of and be damned for it,” Bill said hoarsely, a lone tear tracing down his face. “What I can’t understand, Lee, is how you could look her in the face that day, knowing how vulnerable she must have felt, and proceed to assassinate her character like that. It was uncalled for.”

“I didn’t know the cancer had returned,” Lee whispered.

“Didn’t you?” Lee’s eyes flew to Bill’s; guilt shone in their depths. “Please, son,” he husked. “You may have your faults--the Gods know I have more than enough of my own--but wilful self-dishonesty has never been one of your sins.” 

Shame flamed over his son’s cheeks as he continued. “The moment you knew she was on Chamalla again, you _knew_ why. And you had to know how the news that the cancer was back would affect her emotionally. How could you turn around and use _that_ as a weapon against her? The fact that she and all those others stood before that Cylon firing squad because their names was on a list that Baltar, as President, signed--that was indisputable evidence. Her Chamalla use had no bearing on her testimony except as a distraction from the evidence.”

“I had to give Baltar the best defence I could,” Lee replied.

“No, that was what his defence lawyer was there for,” Bill replied harshly. “You were simply supposed to be Lamkin’s bodyguard, not part of his defence team. No, you were there to expiate your own guilt--isn’t that what your turn on the stand was all about?” he goaded. “But it wasn’t supposed to be about you or your _frakking_ guilt!” he said, cutting off Lee's angry retort. “It was about _justice_ for all those people maimed or killed on Baltar’s watch--with his collaboration and indeed, his _participation_. Because by signing those orders that sent people to detention cells that some of them never left, or before a Cylon firing squad, make no mistake--no matter how he justified it--Baltar _did_ participate in murder and attempted murder.

“And you’re right, Laura probably harbours great need for revenge in her heart,” he admitted. “After experiences that harrowing, who wouldn’t want to throw the bastard out an airlock? But all she asked from that Court was simple justice, for all those people Baltar destroyed, and yes, for herself. And in the end, I couldn’t give it to her, because _justice_ has rules and by the Rules of Justice, it is incumbent on the prosecution to “prove its case beyond reasonable doubt” and the prosecutor didn’t accomplish that.”

Bill watched his son’s closed face as the younger man absorbed his words; he wondered if Lee would ask the question he was burning to ask. However, he wasn’t really surprised when Lee turned and walked towards the hatch--only disappointed. Half-way there he stopped and faced Bill again, jaw clenched.

“And the defence, sir?”

Bill sat back in his chair, regarding his son for long minutes. _Perhaps there’s hope for him yet_ , he thought with a certain amount of relief. If he was willing to ask the question and listen to its answer, perhaps there was hope for him yet.

“What about the defence?” he countered.

“Did the defence prove its case?” Lee snapped out at last, eyes flashing angrily.

“No,” Bill replied. “The defence proved nothing, least of all innocence. It didn’t even cast a shadow of reasonable doubt.”

Lee’s voice was hoarse, pained. “How can you say that?”

“Because for all its bluster and rhetoric, there was no substance to the defence,” Bill said bluntly. “I dare say, even Lamkin would tell you that. That type of flashy doublespeak might have worked with a jury of twelve where playing on emotions tends to blind people and it probably worked with a lot of the audience, but it would not with anyone paying attention to the law and the rules of evidence, which I can assure you, the members of that tribunal were.”

Bill took off his glasses and wiped them on his sleeve before putting them back on again. “It may be irregular for me to say this, but then again, this entire conversation is highly irregular. However, not one tribunal member felt that the defence presented anything that could even be construed as casting reasonable doubt on any of the evidence presented by the prosecution.”

“But you said that three of you voted to acquit _precisely_ because of reasonable doubt,” he protested.

Bill couldn’t help the disappointment that flooded him, leaving him exhausted and fighting his own anger. 

“Because for the three of us, the evidence presented by the _prosecution_ was insufficient to meet the legal threshold of guilty beyond reasonable doubt!” he barked. “But what the defence presented was never in doubt by any of us, Lee. Stripped of all the verbal pyrotechnics and impassioned pleas, you and Lamkin presented us with the legal equivalent of absolutely nothing! 

“Gods, you _still_ don’t get it, do you?” he said, completely irritated now with Lee’s obtuseness and need for vindication. “Lamkin’s entire defence was nothing but the rhetorical equivalent of a third-rate magic show and he set you up as a _frakking_ side show to distract the audience from how thin the illusion really was!”

The absolute bloodless look of horror on Lee’s face told Bill that he’d grasped it at last. 

“And I think you know what the illusion was,” Bill said quietly.

“That Baltar wouldn’t get a fair trial,” Lee whispered.

“Yeah,” Bill replied, “and every action, every gods-damned word out of his mouth--probably since he met you--was calculated to maintain that illusion. Lamkin couldn’t afford for this trial to be seen as a true search for justice, so he simply--and rather skilfully--twisted it around; something the prosecutor failed to counter. He recast Baltar as the victim and the true victims became Baltar’s persecutors, and once he was sure you’d bought into it--”

“He wound me up, sat back and just watched me go,” Lee choked out; fists clenched at his sides, red eyes brimming. “And in my blind zeal, I turned the victims’ search-- _Laura’s_ search for justice into a travesty.”

“When the righteous is called on to search out sin, the first place he must look is within,” Bill said, quoting the old passage from memory. “Only then, in the eyes of the Gods, is he fit to judge his fellow man.” Lee looked at him, eyes filled with despair. “They’re the first words of the old Canon, the ancient Scripture-based laws laid down by the Lords of Kobol and it’s the first thing a lawyer, if he’s a good one, learns.” 

Watching his son’s devastated face, Bill knew that he couldn’t leave it at that; he couldn’t leave Lee like that. As he’d pursued his career, Bill had allowed a lot of things to fall by the wayside when his sons were growing up. It was too late to make it up to his younger son, Zak, who’d died two years before the destruction of the Colonies, but it wasn’t too late for Lee and he couldn’t allow his boy to fall by the wayside again.

“You’re not a lawyer, son,” Bill said quietly. “You went into that court and made the one mistake a good lawyer is trained not to make; you made assumptions. You made assumptions about me, Laura, Lamkin, Baltar--about the court itself.”

Bill rose, opened the top drawer of his desk and pulled out the flight insignia he’d thrown in there when Lee had resigned to join Lamkin’s defence team. The stylized gold wings gleamed in his palm as he held his hand out to his son.

“I’m no good at this, Lee,” he said holding his son’s gaze for a long moment. “I was never around to give you fatherly advice when you needed it, and it just may be that you don’t want it now, but I will say this; it’s normal for a young man to want to get out from beneath his father’s shadow and carve out his own niche. Back in the Colonies it was easy enough to do--out here, not so much. But if you genuinely want to be a lawyer, so be it. You have my father’s books; get out there and apprentice yourself to Cassidy, or Lamkin or any of the other lawyers in the fleet--become the best damned lawyer you can be. Or if you want to be a politician, go pick Roslin’s brain and become the best _frakking_ politician. I won’t hold it against you ... much,” he said with a grimace, but was glad to see faint, pained smile in return. “Or if you want to be a Colonial Warrior ... well, you’re already the best damned  CAG I’ve ever had, and you’re the best pilot in this fleet--barring whether or not that’s really Starbuck down in the brig. But as I’ve said before, and I’ll say again, Lee, you have to _choose_ who you want to be--what you want to be, and where you want to stand.”

Lee nodded, silent tears flowing down his face as he took the insignia from Bill’s hand. 

“And while you will always have your opinions and the right to express them, you can’t keep rushing headlong into things that you don’t really understand because you’re hurt or angry, or floundering around in places where you’re out of your depth and have only a partial picture of what is going on. Too many people get hurt that way. Part of being an adult is learning to recognise those situations and making an informed opinion on your course of action.

“I admire you, son, for your principles and for having the guts to follow them ... for trying to do what was right. But I don’t admire that you didn’t take the time to consider the other side of the equation and to do your homework; that you allowed yourself to be blindly led or that you put yourself in a position to be manipulated into carry out someone else’s agenda.

“Whatever you do with your life, Lee, you have to make gods-damned sure it is _your_ choice, and then take ownership of it and do the best you can.”

Lee closed his hand around his wings and drew himself up straight and tall. Snapping to rigid attention he brought his right hand up in a crisp salute. “Yes sir!”

Bill nodded, drew himself to meticulous attention and returned his son’s salute.


End file.
